


star of the show.

by redvox



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Dad Schlatt, DadSchlatt, Gen, i hated writing in the past tense, no beta we die like men, philza minecraft, the first part is dadschlatt, the sbi family comes in the epilogue, then the next is sbi family bc they make me go :uguu:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:40:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28208454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvox/pseuds/redvox
Summary: "you should take his hat off, sir," the woman said, pointing to tubbo. "and yours too."schlatt took tubbo's off and ruffled his hair, making it look fluffy and a little messy. "ah, i can't take mine off." schlatt looked at tubbo with a loving gaze and only shook his head with a laugh. "he's the star of the show anyways.""star of the show!" tubbo mimicked.===dadschlatt au by @pebblespeckintentional lowercase; warm & angsty dadschlatt / warm sleepy bois inc/roleplay DSMP
Comments: 26
Kudos: 350





	1. winter 20XX.

**Author's Note:**

> dadschlatt au by @pebblespeck on instagram  
> intentional lowercase, warning for child abandonment

the air outside was cold and bitter, enough to bite at the tip of a nose and add a touch of a soft pink to the face. the clouds rolled by, one overlapping another, and the ground crunched with every footstep as the snow contorted to the make of winter boots above. the trees were ripped of their leaves and exposed long limbs that have effortlessly aged through time. the sidewalks were slightly dusted with powder-like snow, but were graciously cleaned by the wind. the sky was a diluted blue, bordering on the sight of yet another snow storm.

a large, gray glove held the tiny green glove of a child. and the gray glove was attached to a tall man, mature enough to be out of highschool but nothing further, who towered above the child with ease. the child wearing the green glove is small, looking to be in kindergarten or so, and was dead-set on getting something.

"tubbo," the man said, kneeling beside him, "we have to get going. we're going to be late for family photos."

tubbo looked slightly upward to lock eyes with his (presumably) father, and the father faltered a little at the puppy-dog stare. but tubbo pulls away from the glass display and angrily stomped ahead, to which the father quickly scooped him up in his arms and held him close.

"i know you like bees, tubbo, but dad's running a little low," the dad gently patted tubbo's back. "i promise i'll get it for you when i can."

the father carried tubbo in his arms as tubbo played with the fur on his dad's coat, plucking at it and mindlessly rubbing the faux fur between his fingertips. the father pushed ahead, focused on the warmth of his child in his arms and how he just wanted to get the hell inside where it's warmer so he didn't freeze his ass off.

"welcome!" a friendly voice greeted the duo as the father entered the small studio. he put down tubbo who immediately went to the display of nature on the wall and eagerly pointed to the bees painted on the wall. "can i have a name?"

"schlatt," schlatt responded, and he made his way over to tubbo and pointed at the bee with him. tubbo smiles wide and throws himself into his father's arms with a big hug. "and toby." schlatt picked up the tiny boy and put him atop his shoulders.

the woman behind the counter did a small amount of typing before finding the reservation they made. "christmas photos?" she walked from behind the counter and gestured for them to follow her.

"yeah," schlatt said, carrying a tubbo on his back. "i believe the others should be here?"

"oh, didn't you call?" the woman stopped at a room and opened the door to a shooting set in a small room. "you said you and your son were coming because the rest couldn't make it."

schlatt put tubbo down on the ground again and mumbles something to him, and that got tubbo to start playing with the pines on the trees. "i'm sorry? i didn't do that."

the woman nervously shifted on her feet. "you are schlatt, yes?"

"i am, but i didn't call you guys." he let out an exasperated sigh. "when did he call?"

"about ten minutes ago," she responded, beginning to set up the camera and the lights. "something about your mother being ill, and your father unable to walk because he slipped and fell."

schlatt made a disgruntled noise as he checked his phone and opened up the texts between his father and mother, both of which said nothing of the sort.

'we'll be there shortly!' said his mother.

"of course. it couldn't get any fu--" schlatt stopped in his complaining at the sound of the camera clicking and the flash going off. the woman gave a shy laugh behind the camera. 

"we'll only charge for the two of you, then, if you still want to take photos with us. if not, i'll give you this one for nothing." the woman nodded for schlatt to come view the photo.

schlatt took a few steps towards the camera and looked towards the screen, where he saw a photo of tubbo sitting under the tree, smiling wide and pulling on the branches. it's as if tubbo was posing all along, waiting for the woman to take her first few testing shots.

schlatt's angry expression quickly dissipated as he slowly smiled at the sight of how happy his child is. "okay, we'll do it."

schlatt took his gloves off as well as tubbo's and threw them aside. he placed tubbo right in the middle of his lap and held him close. tubbo looked up at his dad, craning his head back far enough to show his dad a bright grin. schlatt looked down at tubbo and smiled back, wide enough to push the skin of his cheeks upward and slightly close his eyes. tubbo only grinned harder, letting out a few bubbly giggles before the flash goes off. 

"maybe it was best they didn't come," schlatt mumbled to himself, knowing that if anyone could hear, it'd be the camerawoman. "because it can just be about you!" schlatt lifted tubbo into the air and turned him around to face his dad. tubbo put his arms out to imitate how extended schlatt's arms are, and the two of them laughed in unison. he put tubbo down and kept his gaze affixed to the smile across his son's face.

"you should take his hat off, sir," the woman said, pointing to tubbo. "and yours too."

schlatt took tubbo's off and ruffled his hair, making it look fluffy and a little messy. "ah, i can't take mine off." schlatt looked at tubbo with a loving gaze and only shook his head with a laugh. "he's the star of the show anyways."

"star of the show!" tubbo mimicked, having a little trouble pronouncing the 'th' sound of his words. nonetheless, he made grabby hands towards his dad and was giggling brightly when pulled close to his dad. 

the woman finished up taking her photos and gently popped the SD card out of the camera. she walked the two of them back out to the waiting room, asking for schlatt's opinion on which photos he'd like and what border to go with. tubbo was staring at the bees on the wall again, tracing their outline with his finger.

"don't do anything to them," schlatt responded, "just give me the raw ones. i want to keep them as is. winter photoshoot is better than christmas, anyways."

the woman nodded and finished their order up. the printer began to slide the photos out from it's tray right onto the counter, and schlatt could see how happy tubbo looked. when he went to pay for his order, the woman shook her head and pushed his card away. schlatt insisted by pushing his card back, only to be met with her hand pushing the card away with force.

"have a merry christmas," she said, handing him the photos in a manilla envelope. 

schlatt's eyes were filled with appreciation and he nodded, "the same to you, ma'am."

those joyfully filled eyes are now full of nothing but guilt as he sat in the dimly lit bathroom, alone, bottle in hand. he was drinking--and still is, as he tries to polish off the bottle in hand. he feels sick to his stomach, muddling in his own guilt and sorrow. his eyes are puffed and red, face wet with tears, and his hair is disheveled and messy. the large ram horns come around his face and try to keep hold of what maturity schlatt ever had.

"dad?" an older tubbo knocks on the bathroom door, somehow hearing the soft cry of his dad. 

"don't come in, please," schlatt responds, wiping at his face and placing the bottle in the bathtub. "give me a second, tubbo."

"everything is okay?" tubbo asks through the door, his shadow blocking the heavy light behind the door. "i heard you cry--"

the door opens as tubbo talks, and it reveals a tired, empty schlatt. he looks down at tubbo, who has nothing more than stumps for horns, and tries to smile. he fails horribly, and it comes out looking like a soft expression for help.

"tubbo, we gotta have a chat," schlatt tries his best to sound composed, but it ultimately wavers his sentence with sorrow. "and you're going to have to be brave for me, okay? be my brave little tubbo." he leads tubbo to a couch in the living room, putting his son beside the cushion he's sitting on.

tubbo nods, his mess of hair falling over his eyes. he pushes it out of his eyesight and stares at his dad with child-like innocence. 

"i know you're only five, but you're going to be so brave when you're older. you're going to be so much better than your father ever was. maybe you don't even understand what i'm saying, or part of it won't make sense to you until later in your life, but you gotta listen real close to what dad has to say next, okay?" schlatt puts a hand on tubbo's shoulder and gives a shaky sigh, eyes begging to let go more tears.

tubbo seems to be mimicking what shaky sigh his father gives, letting the same one out and about to burst into tears. "i won't cry, dad."

schlatt looks away from tubbo and takes a deep breath in, and then turns back to look at a sobbing tubbo. "buddy, tubbo," schlatt wipes the tears at tubbo's face and lets a few go himself. "dad can't take care of you anymore."

"what do you--what do you mean?" tubbo hiccups between sobs, furiously rubbing at his face.

schlatt keeps wiping at tubbo's face and holds him close. "i'm going to have to let you go. for now i am going to put you under the care of someone else, okay? i know--" he chokes up, turning away from tubbo and biting at his knuckles. "i know someone who can be a good father to you. give you anything you want. love you like a son."

"but i love dad," tubbo responds, hugging schlatt's chest and burying his face into it. schlatt hugs him back, putting his hands on tubbo's back and rubbing small circles into it.

"i love you, toby," schlatt finally gives in, sobbing a little has he says the phrase, "but you gotta be brave for me, okay?" he pulls tubbo away from his chest and looks at him. "it's going to hurt us both. bud, go grab your bee plush and the little envelope i gave you."

tubbo hops from the couch and sulks towards his room, shuffling around stuff on his tiny desk before coming out with a worn-out bee stuffy and an envelope titled 'WINTER 20XX.' he also carries his favorite sweater with him: a large, plain blue sweater that looks like tubbo would be swimming in it. tubbo places the items on the small coffee table and watches his dad box them up for him.

schlatt gets up and picks up tubbo and the box, holding him close as the two leave the small apartment. he continuously pats at tubbo's back as the child wails and cries, the noise echoing through the stairwell. schlatt silently cries alongside his child, knowing that tubbo isn't going to tough it out as well as schlatt hoped.

schlatt walks a few blocks away from the apartment, taking quick shortcuts and long alleyways around the neighborhood before dropping him at the door of a house. the house is tall and pretty well-looking, fenced in by white picket. 

schlatt places tubbo on the doorstep. "stay here, buddy, and knock on the door as hard as you can once you see dad disappear, okay?" he places the box beside tubbo along with a note. "and promise you'll remember me." he holds out his pinky finger for the small child.

tubbo, still crying, locks his finger with his dad's and nods. 

schlatt begins his walk away from tubbo, hurrying as fast as his legs will carry him. he wipes at his wet face, feeling his eyes getting heavy with water and eyelids slowly closing around them. but he pushes through it all, pushes through the pain, and makes it far enough that tubbo can't see him turn around a building and wait to see his son be taken into good care.

he watches as tubbo gently knocks on the door with shaky knuckles, banging with his other fist. the oak door swings open to reveal a tall, blonde man wearing bright green. alongside him is a shorter brunette adorning a yellow jumper similar to the one tubbo's been given from his dad. he watches as the new father pick up the note and read it, meanwhile the brunette is trying to make small talk with the sobbing tubbo.

schlatt finally walks away from the whole scene when he sees tubbo hesitantly walk inside the house and the door swing close.


	2. home.

"and that's the last i ever saw of my dad," tubbo says to tommy, the two of them conversing on a bench in their backyard. in the background the two can hear wilbur and techno having a small fisticuffs, techno clearly winning the fight. "even in the photos he gave me, i can't tell who he is. i just know that the man in those photos is him.

"has dad ever shown you the photos since?" tommy questions, and he turns his head to gesture past the two twins dueling to phil tending to a garden. "i wouldn't even know where they are, to be honest with you, tubbo."

tubbo shakes his head and rubs his head. "i don't think i really care anymore. it's been a good eight years since then, right?" he turns away from tommy and looks towards phil. "and i think that dad is… a better father than my original dad."

"we've got to find a way to differentiate between the two," tommy jokes, and he gets up from the bench. "maybe something like 'goat man' since you have these weird little horns." tommy goes to poke at them, but tubbo quickly swats away his hands with a smile.

"now that just sounds weird. and you're insinuating that i am a goat man too! i mean, i probably am, but i'm way cooler." tubbo gets up as well and heads over to the twins. techno is standing over wilbur with a foam sword, pointing the tip of the fake sword at wilbur's head.

"i win!" techno exclaims, and he steps out of the way of wilbur and helps him up. "i never lose, wilbur. this means i can never die!"

wilbur lets out a little laugh as he hands his foam sword to techno. "yeah, yeah, okay. i guess i'll have to fight you two--" he points to tubbo and tommy, "--and see if i will be the one to die first."

"now, now," phil interjects from the garden, rising to his knees and walking over to his four sons. "enough of that talk. go inside and wash up for lunch. i'll be making it soon with some fresh vegetables i picked out."

the three boys head inside as tubbo lingers behind. when tubbo can see the three of them wander away, he grabs a hold of phil's hand and gets his attention.

"when can i see the photos of my dad again?" tubbo asks, and it gets phil to freeze up and fluster.

"ah, i don't think you're quite ready yet, tubbo." phil kneels to be at eye-level with tubbo and places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "i wish i could tell you why, but that's what your father told me. i can only tell you that he loved you, and what he did was out of care."

tubbo's face changes significantly, from simple innocence to bitter anger. he doesn't understand why his dad did what he did if he loved him. it doesn't make sense to tubbo. he tightens his fists and lets out a soft puff of air through his nose.

"come here, give me a hug," phil pulls tubbo in close for a hug, and it feels more like love than tubbo ever felt from his biological father. 

tubbo's anger settles as he hugs phil back. he squeezes himself tightly against phil's body, trying to get closer and feel more of the fatherly love he lacked in his childhood.

"just trust me, tubbo. i know he cared about you just like i did. he may have shown it differently, but he tried everything he could to keep you safe and fed." phil pulls away from the hug and rises from his knees. "do you want to help me make your brothers lunch?"

tubbo blinks away the blistering heat of tears at his eyes and nods, holding phil's hand as if he's a child again. "yeah. i'm very happy that your garden came out nice."

"so am i. i can't wait to grow more vegetables. then, i'm hoping i can move onto fruit. once i get fresh fruit, i can make you all personal pies. like, your own little tray of pies! i think that's very cute, don't you?" phil looks down at tubbo with a wide smile.

tubbo looks up and smiles back, walking closer to phil. "i think so too. it'll be a lot better than the bakery's pies, right?"

"oh, now…" phil starts, "i don't think anything could beat an old woman's baking! that must have taken years of baking, and…" phil trails off into his own tangent about baking pies and how the elderly people know all the secrets that are kept in the bloodline.

tubbo simply nods and listens to phil--

tubbo nods along and listens to his father tell him all about the history of the local bakery as he starts to peel the cucumbers for the salad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thats it boys thats literally it. this is like an epilogue.


End file.
